Circle Game
by Lucy Kay
Summary: Around they'd go, again and again, day after day. Without end, he'd play this circle game. Written for The Pumpkin Equinox. Picture is not mine.
1. When the Forget-Me-Nots Are in Bloom

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters or settings from Harvest Moon: Animal Parade/Tree of Tranquility. Blah, blah, blah; sue me.

My entry for the Pumpkin Equinox prompt. First prompt I've ever done! Hypers! But it's about high time I gave it a shot. SHOT. Get it? This is a three-shot. Disregard. Thanks for reading, everybody!

This story's titled after one of my favorite songs by Galileo Galilei. I don't mention them much because their music is very personal to me, but… I'm putting myself out there this time and working with something very close to home.

Note: Even though I'm positive their heritage was primarily influenced by the Chinese culture, I couldn't pass up the chance to say 'baasan.' Forgive the weeb within me.

Based on real events. Because I didn't know what to do with how I felt after I got home.

* * *

 **Circle Game**

* * *

When Jin stepped out of the shower, he wasn't expecting a big day ahead of him.

He wasn't used to beginning the morning this way. He usually bathed at night. It was a good way to unwind when his mind and body were pent up after working all day at the clinic. But as he had missed sleeping, too, his other nightly habitual had also gone by the wayside.

Jin's bare feet were instantly chilled against the cold tile floor as he stepped up to the counter. He had lost track of time under the hot water, and the mirror was fogged over in steam. He passed a hand over the condensation, swiping it away in streaks at eye level.

 _rap, rap, rap_

The mirror betrayed his all-nighter; the fluorescent lights of the bathroom making the bags under his eyes glaringly obvious. He didn't even have a good excuse for them. He hadn't been working into the wee hours of the morning. Just… thinking. Tinkering. Cleaning. Restless. Insomnia? Well, he was the doctor, so he should know.

It was a gloomy time of year. Not exactly warm and not exactly cold, but it was cool enough that he was still suppressing shivers after leaving the comfortable sanctity of the hot shower. The weather in town was sort of stuck in between. In a transition phase. He felt like he could relate to that feeling of being pulled back and forth in limbo.

Jin stood there in the middle of the bathroom, taking in his haggard appearance. His reflection stared back at him with a pensive frown and a small stitch between the brows, standing a little too tall in front of the comparably undersized counter clad in his bath towel. His usually immaculate ponytail was left hanging in long, wet tendrils over his shoulders.

Whatever this was, it was a foul mood. His half-lidded doppel seemed to appraise him through the glass, dark circles beneath shrewd irises. He felt like he was in a rut, but he couldn't find a way to get out of it. There was this lingering drag weighing on his shoulders.

"Stress… perhaps…" he mused aloud to the hollow, echoing emptiness. He slowly rubbed his eyes, watching the light distort behind his lids as he pressed down too hard. Shaking his head, Jin took up the toothbrush and paste, wondering what lay ahead for the day.

 _rap, rap, rap-rap_

He ought to do something… but he was conflicted. Time and effort for what? What purpose would planning anything serve? The long run was a dead end. It always was these days. _Nothing would change that._

Mouth frothing with toothpaste, Jin spat in the sink and ran the water out of the faucet. He replaced the toothbrush in the jar and watched the white foam swirl in the tiny whirlpools curling down the drain.

 _Was it really… all a waste?_

 _BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!_

It was the first time Jin heard the knocking, the third attempt more violent and impatient than the previous efforts to gain his attention. Jin quickly turned off the tap and swiveled to the door. "…Sorry?"

"Jin!" His grandmother's muffled voice came through the grain. She sounded as fed up as her knocking. "Good heavens, what are you doing in there? I want to speak with you."

Jin looked at the mirror as if seeking confirmation from his own eye contact. He was still in a towel. He spoke unsurely to the door. "…Now?"

"Yes, now!" She demanded.

Knowing not to keep her waiting, Jin scrambled for his discarded pajamas left on the floor. Tossing the towel, he pulled up the black sweatpants and tied them tight. He wriggled into his oversized long-sleeved shirt and freed his hair with a twist over his shoulder, grabbing the door knob and turning it at the same time.

Irene was looking down her nose at him when he opened the door. Even though her grandson had grown much taller than her, she always had a knack for making him feel like he was a head shorter. Her hair was perfectly coiffed into a bun at the nape of her neck, and she was wearing her nicest tan slacks. Jin's eyes gravitated to the purse on her shoulder.

"Jin," Irene announced his name with authority, making it clear she was 'telling' and not 'asking.' But her eyes swam with a sense of uncertainty. "We're going out today."

Jin blinked at her. Realizing he had been slouching against the door frame, he straightened his posture to his full height. He couldn't disguise his quizzical gaze, but he flubbed a little late and tried, rubbing his eyes again and attempting to appear casual about her unusual request. "But what about the clinic?"

Irene sniffed matter-of-factly, never looking her grandson in the eye as she fiddled with her shoulder strap. She spoke quickly, defensively. "We're closed. No one's in here anyways, and I need to stretch my legs. Take me around town… please."

The tacked on plea was a surprise to him. From where it originated – humbleness, sincerity, sadness – he couldn't tell. Jin paused a moment in thought on the matter before he gave her a quiet smile. "Of course. When would you like to go?"

"When can you be ready?" Irene countered, looking a bit more like herself as she critically eyed his unruly hair.

Jin passed his scraggly bangs over his forehead. "I won't keep you waiting."

Irene still had an air of urgency, but she was sated. With a curt nod, she made her way down the hall towards the front lobby to wait for him by the door. Jin watched until she disappeared around the corner, and he closed the door once again.

Turning back towards the mirror, Jin held a hand to his chin in thought. He didn't see this one coming. _But then again…_ He quirked his eyebrow at his reflection. _Maybe this is just what they needed?_

As promised, it wasn't long before Jin made himself presentable and joined his grandmother in the main lobby. Their workplace also their home, there was no real escape from the stress of the day to day. But they didn't have much choice as they constantly had to be available at a moment's notice, being the only practitioners of medicine in their little burb.

Irene had been sitting, waiting patiently for him to join her. She slowly rose from her chair in the waiting area and gave her bun a reassuring pat at the back of her head. Her movements were awkward, and she was suspiciously quiet. Jin watched as she took up her shawl from the coat hanger, wondering what she had in mind this time.

Though he wasn't quite ready to go out himself, Jin pocketed his keys and moved to help his grandmother with her shawl. She accepted his assistance as he spread the old knit around her bony shoulders, and she expertly tied it with ease from years of habit.

"Ready?" Jin prompted, his hand hovering by the light switch. He had turned the open sign about already, and that had felt odd, like he was breaking the rules. But he supposed they were.

" _You're_ not. You need to cover up more," Irene nagged, looking his loose attire up and down. It was slick but much too bare for her tastes. "It's still cold, you know. The wind will get you."

He found it funny how she phrased that. Like the air was just lurking, waiting to give him a cold if he left his head uncovered. Jin smiled and took up the scarf she handed him, ushering her out of the door.

Jin was always considered the go-to guy for precautions and the local health guru, but he knew that Irene was really the primary consultant in the bundling and nagging department. After all, she practically taught him everything he knew. Jin would have chided her ninny badgering, but he didn't have the heart to argue. So the olive green scarf was wrapped about his throat, the tassels on the end blowing every which way as they walked.

Jin cinched the string and wound it once, twice, three times around his hair and made a neat knot. His ponytail in order, he tugged on the ends of his cream colored pullover to more suitably rest along his waistline as he followed his grandmother. In truth, it felt like he was chasing her more than anything with her quick pace and the way he lagged behind. Twice already she had called for him to keep up from over her shoulder, and they had only just locked up and left Choral Clinic.

The sky was overcast, but the world was still bright and smelling fresh from the breezy sea. The wind was strong, but it came in gusts and wasn't a constant struggle to walk against. The air was alive and clean and crisp, brown leaves tumbling around in the corners and crannies between the clustered shops and businesses of town.

"Mm… the weather's on the brink," she said, as she had been thinking along the same lines. She was speaking more to herself, mumbling as her eyes drifted to the briny sea. "It's close. This time of year… Any day now, and it'll all change over."

"Mmhm," Jin idly hummed in agreement, his hand jingling the keys in his pocket absent-mindedly, not really hearing the annoying clink.

Irene's footsteps slowed to a stop, and she watched as Jin approached her with both hands comfortably in his pockets. He realized she had halted and looked up at her like she had asked him a question. She held out her arm. "Take my hand, Jin."

The request was one only a grandson would answer without embarrassment, and it immediately took Jin back to when he was a boy. Her hair was a deep chestnut when the habit started. She'd hold out her hand, just as she was doing now, and Jin would reach up to take it with his own chubby fingers. Crossing the street. Walking to church. Leaving school. They were fond memories. Memories of the woman who had raised him.

Jin's smile was a little distant as he was wrapped in the nostalgia, taking her wrinkled hand in his own strong one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He noted it was cold as they fell into step. "Where would you like to go today?"

"Just around," Irene answered vaguely. She used his proximity to her advantage to link their arms, using him for support as they walked. Though she didn't always look it, Irene's back troubled her, and it was often painful for her to walk any kind of distance further than across the room. She'd never admit it though. Her pride was too great.

He looked down at her at his side, and something in him stirred. Something melancholic. But also… a little hopeful. He didn't picture his day looking like this, no, but he was surer now more than ever that this was the best way to spend this leisurely Friday.

 _Then around we will go_ , Jin silently promised. He looked away and held his head high, just like his grandmother taught him, before she could notice the shimmer in his eyes.


	2. You Become a Memory

They had only meandered a short distance when Jin beckoned his head to the Ocarina Inn before they could pass it completely, stopping along the pastel-colored brick. "Would you like something to eat first? Have you had breakfast?"

"Of course! I never skip breakfast," Irene admonished him, seemingly affronted at the suggestion. She patted his forearm with a gentler expression as she thought it over with a worrying crease in her brow, watching the door of the restaurant. "I suppose a snack wouldn't hurt though… You need to keep up your strength."

He acquiesced and held open the door for her. Before they could enter, a rapidly approaching silhouette was set to exit. Head down with her nose in a long list, Anissa almost didn't notice someone was holding the door until she was in the way. Her face flushed when she looked up and realized who it was. "Oh! Pardon me – I'm in the way. Sorry!"

"Never mind, dear," Irene's tone brightened drastically at the sight of the familiar face. She looked to her grandson as if he needed prompting. "Let her by, Jin."

"Morning, Anissa," he casually greeted her and motioned for her to go through.

Anissa awkwardly side-stepped through the doorway and shuffled to the side. She went to run a hand through her hair but remembered in time not to muss her French braid. She idly scratched her temple instead. "Good morning, doctor. Miss Irene. How are you?"

"Quite fine, thank you," Irene answered for them both. Her eyes gravitated to the shopping list and loaded basket in Anissa's gloved hands. "Running errands this early in the day?"

Anissa nodded and sweetly smiled. "It's rather a hectic time of year for us… but it's better to be on the move. Gives me exercise!"

It was evident she was rather exhausted, but Jin wasn't surprised. She had always been a hard-working girl, going above and beyond her family business down at Marimba Farm. She'd often sit with Irene and learn about medicine making and herb recipes, too. That was how Jin became acquainted with her. Anissa was one of the few people in their little town who was never idle.

Irene wisely nodded her head in agreement. "I would imagine. There must be lots of planting and plowing to be done."

For a split second, Anissa's face changed to one of perplexity. Her eyes flicked to Jin's, but he remained placid and patient. She quickly shrugged it off with a nervous chuckle. "Oh, but this is a big day for you, isn't it? Out to celebrate?"

Irene was nonchalant, but it was apparent she was the one confused now. "Not particularly, no. Just another day… as usual. We're out to brunch. Why don't you join us? Wouldn't that be nice, Jin?"

Anissa's gaze locked on Jin's face, and she studied him intently. Her mouth became a thin line. Jin didn't shrink. He pleasantly returned her stare with a grateful one. She understood and was quiet as they seemed to share a private moment there on the street. But her focus returned to Irene, and her eyes regained their lively sparkle as she addressed her. "That sounds wonderful! But… I'm really terribly busy. Some other time; please forgive me."

"Of course, you don't want to fall behind," Irene said. She liked Anissa's work ethic very much, but she was quite fond of the girl's company. So she was still a bit disappointed to see her go.

Anissa laid a reassuring hand on Irene's forearm. She gave it a light squeeze. "I'll make it up to you soon," she nodded to Jin, "I'll be seeing you. Have a great day, okay? And take it easy!"

"You as well," Jin held up a hand to bid her farewell. Anissa regarded them a final time over her shoulder, but she hid the pitying look with a turn of her head. The tufts of hair that couldn't be captured in the braid and her long, gypsy skirt were caught in another gust of wind as she disappeared.

"You barely said two words to her," Irene flatly scolded him as they finally entered the restaurant.

"I wished her well," Jin calmly argued, easily finding an empty table nearby and escorting his grandmother to it. He held out a chair for her, and she elegantly accepted it, untying the fabric around her neck. Jin took her favorite, slightly ratty, purple shawl from her and hung it over the back of her chair before taking a seat across from her for himself.

Irene huffed as she scooted forward slightly and picked up the waiting menu before her. She rose an eyebrow as she read the available dishes. "She's a nice girl, Jin. If you knew what you were doing, you'd be more forward with her."

"Obaa…" he found himself whining slightly on the exhale, setting aside his own menu and removing his scarf. He bunched it on the table beside his place setting.

"I mean it. You ought to be thinking of these things," she said with finality. Irene was rather severe, but she had that same 'grandmother tone' that was typical of fussy nannies the world over. And each one of them seemed to be obsessed with playing matchmaker for their grandchildren.

Jin decided to take it in good humor. He tapped her menu with his index finger. "Have you decided what you're getting?"

Irene puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, but she dropped the subject. Her eyes skimmed the entrées again, and by the time young Maya had arrived to take their order, she had decided on the egg soba. Which proved to Jin that she hadn't eaten breakfast like she said she did. He just got boiled spinach. Because the doctor should practice what he preached.

Maya set their dishes before them on the table with a perky attitude. Irene was busy properly folding her napkin in her lap, but Jin smiled in return to the waitress. Her wispy hair was pulled back, but the ends curled around under her ears where he spied a new pair of earrings dangling. Some sort of garnet perhaps, shaped into little hearts with gold mounts.

Jin waited until the table was set and caught her before she could get back to work. "Thank you, Maya, this looks great. By any chance, are those earrings new?"

"Y…yeah!" Maya readily nodded, surprised he had noticed. Her hand went to her earlobe for confirmation, twisting it back and forth as she chatted. "Gift from the boyfriend, hehe~ It was an early birthday present."

"They suit you," Jin said, admiring them in his quiet way. To those who didn't know him well, he could imagine how his demeanor could seem cryptic in its sterile formality, but every word from him was genuine. Just like his grandmother.

"Birthday?" Irene piped up, unravelling her silverware from the napkin. It fell out onto the table in a clatter. "My, the time flies…"

"Uh-huh!" Maya giggled. She hugged her serving tray, and though she didn't mean to appear demeaning, she stooped to wink at Irene in a secretive way. "What about you? Any big plans today?"

"Today?" Irene wrinkled her nose. The question posed to her twice in a relatively short span of time began to confuse and rather annoy her. Her knuckles turned white as they gripped her fork. "No, of course not. Nothing special going on. Just having lunch with my grandson – I'd like to think that's perfectly natural!"

"Thank you, Maya," Jin reiterated, a cautionary hand shooting out and taking his grandmother's.

Maya got the hint. Though she looked a bit hurt, she forced a smile and tucked the thin strands of hair behind her shiny earrings. She chuckled nervously and bid them a speedy farewell. Over her shoulder, she called back: "Just give a holler if you need anything!"

Irene watched and allowed Jin to calmly lay out her silverware for her. Once it was all straightened out, and she had calmed considerably from her defensive nature, they began to quietly eat. After her strange shift in mood, there wasn't much to say, and neither was going to address it. So they were content in the silence.

Jin was getting lost in the atmosphere of the little restaurant. It was family owned and operated, and it had that vibe. A little dingy here and there, but there was so much heart in it. And the food couldn't be found exactly the same anywhere else. Even his overly-buttery spinach was filled with the sense of home. There was so much worth in that.

A couple of tables over was one of the local families. The baby girl was dead-eyed as she vacantly watched her mother attempt to feed her a mushy-looking carrot from a spoon. Phoebe was absorbed in the task, making motions with her mouth and smiling in encouragement for her little girl. Calvin was across the table from her with their son, an adventurous boy named Heath who was demonstrating his excitable personality as he laughed with his father and tried to assemble a pyramid with his French fries. They were a happy family. He knew both Calvin and Phoebe worked quite a bit, much like Jin's own parents back in the city, but there was a strong bond between them. The doctor could see it as they took time out of their busy schedules for a simple lunch out with their kids.

To the table directly behind Irene, Jin could see the back of Gill's platinum blond head. The mayor's son. He had his nose stuck in a book as he ate alone, taking notes every now and again in a spiral notebook, swapping out his spoon for his pen. He was a man always on task. Jin supposed he could relate to him in that respect, but it wasn't one he was very proud of. He needed to learn to take life at a slower pace. They both needed to. To match their little town of little people with their little problems. Jin wondered if Gill ever took days off to take his father to lunch… or maybe it was the other way around. Hamilton could be rather assertive. Jin smiled at the thought.

Knowing the names and faces and stories of those around him gave Jin deep comfort. He thought… he'd like to hold onto that. For as long as time would allow. That pleasant closeness and peace…

"Pumpkin pie, pumpkin soup, pumpkin bread… so much pumpkin…" Irene muttered. She had taken up a laminated card that was sitting between the salt and pepper shakers. "It's a wonder anybody eats all of it… such a strange time of year, too! They ought to use something in season – like raspberries."

His eyes made contact with hers, and he stared. It took Jin a full five seconds before he realized his grandmother was pointing at his sweater and leaning over the table with her napkin.

"You've got this butter sauce all over your sweater…" Irene reprimanded with an exasperated roll of the eyes. She made to dab at the stain, but Jin backed away and took up his own napkin to take care of it. He hadn't realized he had dropped his fork and subsequently splashed himself with his food. He made Heath look like a capable adult in comparison. Irene sat back in her chair and made to finish her noodles. "Always lost in your own thoughts… You get that far off look like you're trying to count the carpet fibers. Stop that."

Jin snorted in good humor at her summation. Finished with his spinach anyway, he pushed the bowl away and retrieved his scarf. He wrapped it around his neck and fluffed it out over the splotch. Jin looked up at his grandmother with a proud grin. "See? No harm done."

"You're disguising the problem," she retorted, finding a way to worm a lesson into the occurrence. Irene gently pat her mouth with the napkin, careful not to smudge the subtle color of lipstick she had on. She cleared her throat. "Well, I suppose we're done here. You're always in such a hurry, Jin."

"There's no rush. Take your time," he said, starting to slide the scarf off again.

"No, no. No need to stay cooped up in here all afternoon… I'll pay," the firm insistence was tacked on at the end with authority. Like she was slapping his hand away from the cookie jar. She brought her purse up onto her lap and dug through it for her clutch wallet.

"That isn't necessary – this was my idea," Jin argued, his wallet out of his pocket and at the ready.

Irene snapped her head up in irritation. "Nonsense! Don't be so difficult."

Jin stood up first. Irene was still determined to have her way, and she tossed a bill onto the table. Jin handed it back to her, but she refused to take it. He sighed, but his smile remained. "Please, baasan. I'd _like_ to treat you."

"You're so stubborn!" She scolded as Jin turned his back and went up to the counter to cover the bill there.

After having to wrestle the money back into her purse and get her shawl back around her shoulders, the two were off once again to the quiet streets of Harmonica Town. He thought it would do some good for her, and they made the trek down to the beach, watching the green waves wash over the sand in a salty spray. They admired the ocean, but it was difficult for her to walk in the uneven sand.

So they went back to town. Jin was the one grand-mothering her for a change, taking each stair they came across one step at a time. She swatted at him when he made the excuse for his worry that a 'fall at her age' could be critical, but it lifted their spirits. They meandered along the cobblestone pathways that were so familiar to them. The seagulls bobbed in the ocean waters by the pier, and they watched them for awhile, talking about the ins and outs of the clinic. Jin was careful and skirted around the present and focused on the distant past. Remember when Luke came in with a broken arm? And how he came back with a broken cast a day later? Irene nearly chased him out. How Kathy was so scared of needles when they were kids? She was the toughest little girl in town until flu season when she'd snot-cry as her father held her arm pinned, and Irene stuck her. And Toby was so sickly – his uncle would constantly be in for cold medicine. How Hamilton insisted Gill was sickly, too, and Irene let him have his self-diagnosis without saying a word. He had become a terrible worrier, panicking at every sniffle and sneeze, after his wife died.

They stopped by the bar where the chef was on break, puttering away on his pocket flute to while away the time. A few villagers had slowed to a halt in the area as well to listen and relax and enjoy the nice day. Irene watched Chase play out a folksy melody, her eyes swimming with memories that Jin wasn't old enough to recognize. But he watched her in interest, wondering what she was seeing in her mind's eye. _What was locked in there…? What in this particular song struck a chord in her heart?_

When Irene looked his way after he had been staring for some time, Jin adjusted her shawl closer to her neck. The wind had picked up, and they were both looking a bit frizzed around the edges. "Are you cold?"

"I'm quite alright, thank you. Chilly today… unusual. I hope it warms up soon," she mumbled, wringing her hands underneath her chin.

Jin bit the inside of his lip, turning away. He had his arm around her shoulders and could feel she was shivering slightly.

"Jin? What's the matter? You look anxious," Irene read the jumbled emotions behind his face. "Are you in a hurry?"

He led her away towards the foot bridge, his expression lightening again as he was struck with an idea. Jin smiled as he indicated the store in front of them, successfully avoiding her questions. "Why don't we see what's new in the tailor shop? Maybe they'll have something you like."

"Hm… their knits could be discounted," Irene agreed with the plan, observing the sky. She gave Jin a pat on the arm. "Alright, that sounds nice. Let's see. Maybe I'll get a pair of gloves or a muff for next winter."

Happy for the distraction, Jin held the door open for his grandmother and they went into the little store. The bell tied above the door was broken and only clunked once as they entered. It was almost unnervingly quiet, but when Jin listened close enough, he could just make out a lilting piano track coming from the radio in the corner where Candace was busily knitting. Her sister, Luna, was at the counter, trying to disguise the fact she had been playing with her chewing gum before they arrived. She spat it into a nearby rubbish bin and smiled sweetly, waving her fingers in greeting.

The store was bright and smelled of the fresh linens on display. It was kitschy and serene. Jin almost forgot why they never came in there anymore.

Irene drew away from him and began passing through women's tops hanging on a wooden rod against the wall. She admired a pale yellow sleeve, rubbing the soft fabric between her fingers, but she let it go and approached the counter where Luna was straightening her posture.

"Hello, Luna. How are you?" Irene politely inquired, hands folded before her.

Even though she was the guest, Irene commanded a sense of respect. Like she was the hostess no matter where she was. The person in charge. Luna gave a little curtsy. "Hi, Miss Irene, Dr. Jin. We're fine! Business is business, ya know. How are you up at the clinic? Keeping busy?"

"Here and there," Irene answered vaguely.

Jin sensed the small talk and interrupted rather abruptly, directing his question at Luna. "Do you have a muff?"

" _What?"_ The girl's tone was aghast.

Candace whirled around in her chair for the first time since they came in, a shocked expression and a blush steadily rising on her cherubic face. " _Luna_ …! The furs! Obviously…"

"Oh," Luna flatly realized, silently shrugging off her mistake as one that was easy for anyone to make. Her older sister's eyes met Jin's, and she quickly spun back around, the knitting needles fumbling as she went back to her work.

Luna muttered something about 'well, nobody ever asks about them…' as she passed their customers and went to a display near the window. She stood on her tiptoes to retrieve a fluffy fur from off the shelf, bringing down a second one in blue with a grunt and a little hop. Luna went back to the pair and held out the items. "Last we have! Not many people wear 'em anymore…"

"Which do you like better, baasan?" Jin said in a hush out of respect for the store's quiet environment.

Irene picked up the burnt orange one and considered it for a moment before deciding it looked rather like a fat tabby cat. She took the one in blue and tested it in her hands, holding it close and showing her grandson. "Well… it's warm. Does its job."

"I think it looks very nice. It's classic," he complimented her choice.

Satisfied with his approval, Irene accepted the blue muff and took it to the counter to purchase it. Luna replaced the orange one back onto the shelf and hurried to the cash register, skipping to a stop, the pigtails resting low on her shoulders bouncing with her movements. She brightly looked at them after she had rung it up. "Alrighty! Is that it for ya?"

"Yes, thank you," Jin said with a nod, his wallet again at the ready.

"Now, Jin…!" Irene began to argue as she brought up her purse to the countertop.

Foreseeing the same argument, Jin didn't want to bother with the logic and reason she wasn't going to accept. "This one time. Consider it a present."

Irene attempted the same action she had in the restaurant with the same crumpled up bill, tossing it onto the counter. But Luna took Jin's side and refused to take it from her. Irene huffed, taking it out on her generous grandchild as she stuffed her money back into her bag. "You're so stubborn!"

Her repetitive nature was secondhand to him now. He easily dismissed it. Jin just shook his head and looked to Luna. "How much is it?"

Luna remained cordial through the whole debacle. She'd seen this shtick of 'no, allow me' before. Like with her fiancé. "It's twelve—"

"Where's Shelly?"

They had gotten so far.

Jin had pinched his eyes shut at the mention and slowly opened them. Luna's mouth was a grim line. Candace had stopped her knitting, sitting there like a statue with her head hanging and shoulders drooped as she listened. Irene was casual, still looking to Luna for an answer as to the whereabouts of her grandmother.

"It feels like I haven't seen her in ages," Irene went on to fill the awkward silence.

"Gramma's…" Luna spoke quietly, still making up her mind.

Jin was furiously wracking his brains for a way to apologize, but it was such a stark thing to say. He couldn't think of a way to gracefully recover from it, and the mistake was on his hands. He brought her in here – he should have known… and remembered what happened last time.

But Luna brightly smiled. "She's in the back taking her nap! I could wake her up for you, if you want."

Irene declined, holding up a hand to refuse the offer. "Oh, no. Let her sleep, then. Shelly works so hard, so she needs the time to relax. But I'll stop in later, thank you."

"Yeah… you do that. She'll appreciate it," Luna continued to speak of her in the present tense with a wide, phony smile. Jin's heart broke for her. For them.

Everyone was thoroughly uncomfortable, but they did a good job disguising it. And though Jin knew the girls didn't owe him anything – he was surprised when Luna delivered. Here they were stirring up painful memories, and they were just… playing along. For Irene's sake. It really was… too kind of them.

"Oh, right, the muff. I'll take just that today," Irene saw the item on the counter, nodding to it and bringing up her purse again.

Jin clenched his fist, too shell-shocked by the turn of events to find words to say. But Luna was a better actress. For the time being. She shook her head and handed the dyed fur over to the old woman across the counter. "No, you take it. It's on the house."

"We couldn't do that; we've caused enough…" Jin's sentence trailed off when his grandmother gave him a skeptical glare. He looked past her at the girl still quiet in the corner. Jin couldn't see Candace's face through her waves of loose hair from where she sat with her back to them, but her lungs seemed to shudder.

"Please… Gramma would've… she'll want you to have it," Luna's head lowered as she held it out even further, almost forcing it into Irene's arms. Her voice was lower, and her eyes were glued to the desk. "I insist."

Jin took it. He handed the muff to his grandmother and put her hands into the fabric, giving it a squeeze. Irene was completely bewildered by their strange dramatics, but she didn't argue after looking between their distraught faces. Like they knew something she didn't know.

"Thank you… truly," Jin bowed, his ponytail falling over his shoulder at the steep angle. But he quickly rose and took his grandmother by the arm. "Let's go, obaa… See, you won't be cold now. Very nice… what they did for us."

"Lovely girls," Irene nodded in agreement. She went through the door Jin was holding open for her. "So generous! You can tell they were raised right. Their grandmother must be so proud!"

The most gut-wrenching feeling penetrated his very bones. Leaving that store, he could feel it in their eyes on his back, in the empty silence they left behind. It was so thick, so heavy. Like it held actual density in the air. That dreadful, agonizing, undeniable… pity.


	3. Let's Continue the Circle Game

Their steps soon led them away from the village proper. Irene had switched gears and decided she needed some bulbs to plant in the window boxes. She wanted to go out to Marimba Farm and see what they had. Jin didn't mind. He was up for a walk.

Harmonica Town was a wonderful place. Jin was happy to be there, tucked away amidst the stacked streets. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like if he stayed in the city where he studied medicine, but that wouldn't have been good for Irene. Since his parents were always back and forth career people, she had taken the helm in bringing him up, so he wanted to do what was best for her now that it was his turn to make the decisions. And they were close. Jin couldn't remember a single day of his life passing by where she wasn't in it. It was only natural that he'd set up a practice with her somewhere, someday. His knowledge and her skill made them an unmatched duo. And Castanet just happened to be the perfect place to do just that.

But she was getting old. Too old. He worried for her. What she was still capable of doing, what she shouldn't be. Jin himself had reached the vague age where people stopped counting for him, but it was going to start showing in his face. Irene was forever in that same limbo to him. She was the adult, and he was the child. But there was no denying the crow's feet around her eyes, the drawn out lines around her mouth and chin, her knobby hands, the way she hunched. She was timeworn. Hell, it was only natural. That's the way life worked. And there was true beauty in growing old. A certain, dignified grace.

Yet Jin knew the true ugliness of aging as well. The kind that wasn't seen with the naked eye. That which deteriorated and decayed and destroyed. The steady passage of time bestowed elegance and wisdom, but it was cruel. Cruel… what it took. He hated it.

She wouldn't admit she was tiring out after their long day, and he wasn't going to let her think she was a burden. Irene was in step beside him, slow and steady. He was used to the gradual pace, but an outsider would see that she struggled at a shuffle, and he meandered for her sake. Lingering, so she could take it easy. The tortoise alongside the hare.

She was taking in the scenery one footfall at a time, noting the cranberries growing in the thicket. Her shoe caught on the trail, and she stumbled. Jin caught her arm with lightning fast reflexes, proving to her how he was always on the alert. "Obaa…!" he scolded, his voice concerned. "Careful…"

"You worry too much," she simply stated, falling back into the rhythm of her stride. She focused on the path ahead, the worn cliff side, and the flock of birds flying high overhead towards the forest. Her eyes were distant. "The flowers will be blooming soon… and there will be ducklings in the cove. And I'll make those potato pancakes with the omelet rice… You like potato pancakes, don't you, Jin?"

"Mm… yes, of course," Jin hummed quietly in return. He stopped short when she did, looking to her in alarm.

They had crossed the bridge and were before Flute Fields. The grass was turning brown after a few, consistent nights of frost, the dew icing into crystals and revealing the dirt in uneven patches across the landscape. Marimba Farm was just ahead past the houses that dotted the hill. The fields were full to bursting with crops to harvest, all ripe and ready for the picking. The festival that celebrated the bounty was just around the corner.

Irene took it all in with passivity. She turned off of the dirt path and stepped through the grass, careful to pick the places for her feet. Jin's hand left her arm as he let her go, watching as she made her way down the glade.

Finally, he asked her what she was doing after she seemed like she was looking for something. "What are you doing? Didn't you want to go to the farm?"

Irene stooped once she was far enough away, plucking up a deep yellow plant. "I do, I do! I just thought I'd collect a few of these herbs first. They're just lying about, and I don't see any signs telling the public to scram! I could use them for the stamina elixirs. So hold your horses! Always in such a hurry…"

His face softened as he stood back and waited, putting his hands in his pockets as he watched her fill her purse with the plants. Weeds, to most people. But Irene had a magic touch. She'd keep her promise – they'd be ground in her mortar and pestle until they were ingredients key in making energy boosters and vitamins. Things people needed and wanted and loved. Her hands were practiced, working almost separate from her mind as she went about her task. Impossible to forget something so ingrained.

But he worried. Worse and worse every day. He wondered what she'd forget next. How bad it would get. What that pivotal point would be where he would have to acknowledge it aloud. No more games or secrets or nods of understanding with those close around them – those little people with their little problems that they were a part of. When would their little problem become a big problem? A _bigger_ problem? Would she hurt herself? Someone else? Forget to turn off the stove, making potato pancakes? Turn a medicine into poison on accident from a miscalculation?

What if she forgot him? His face? His name? Her own name… or her own…

Anissa had stopped down the path, recognizing him from a distance. She watched for a few moments before hefting her loaded basket up in her arms, finished checklist tucked away in her pocket. Though her steps were quiet, Jin still heard her approaching closer and closer but didn't react.

She stood beside him and looked down where he was staring, finally spotting Irene bent down in the grass. The old woman had her hands full of yellow and red and green herbs, and she was busy in her work. Like she was someone different. Someone focused… younger.

"She thinks it's spring."

The statement seemed to be carried away by the water wheel behind them, like it was something one would say in passing. He never realized it before, but these seasons had so much in common. They looked the same. Jin couldn't blame her, he really couldn't. But it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

The time before the snow, after the heat of summer had ebbed… These months of fall were laced in nostalgia, the thick clouds overhead foreboding in their tranquility. How still and inactive, as if they were a blanket to hide under and relive the regrets of yesterday. The clusters of leaves like garbled memories ready to overwhelm him with the longing for the past. For Jin, autumn was a time of deep sorrow over the loss of what had been before the blank slate of winter's wind swept it all away into forgotten days, like the dead leaves tumbling around by his feet. This season of memories… Even if he was the only one left hanging onto them for them both.

Anissa stared up at the doctor's profile and at the troubled stitch in his brow. She didn't know it, but she was giving him the same look he hated. The one filled with pity. They all felt sorry for him. What he had to deal with. What she was going through. And they all wondered the same thing: did Irene even know what was happening? Or was she already that far gone? How much did she really know? Time was relative to her. There were days of the week, and bygone reminisces of the past, but… the present was a knot. Confused and clustered in odd bunches. Some days were better than others… but no one knew what she remembered anymore. It was a steady decay and it was surprisingly easy, the process of losing one's mind, like pencil erased from paper. She left lights on, forgot what errands she was running, left the laundry on the line. But she was forgetting big things, too. Like who she had just spoken with, or where she was if Jin wasn't beside her… and even the death of her friend, Shelly, who had passed before winter broke last year. Her ability to make new memories seemed to be nonexistent, and the memories she had left were fading away bit by bit with every new day.

She wanted to ask Jin if Irene was going to remember anything about their day out, but she already knew the answer. She wanted to let him know that he wasn't alone, that they were all scared for him. She wanted to tell him that the Alzheimer's wasn't fair to take a person like Irene, who was so resolute and shrewd and independent. Her mind was as sharp as a tack – it wasn't right to see her drifting so helplessly out to sea all on her own. But Anissa couldn't even tell him she was sorry. Sorry she was so useless. That there wasn't anything anyone anywhere could do. She couldn't imagine what it was like for him. Jin, at war with himself. The role of a doctor, his calling, telling him Irene was getting progressively worse. The signs and symptoms of dementia steadily increasing with no real way to combat them, and he was forced to watch as a practitioner – just as helpless as Irene was to the disease. Knowing there was nothing but an end. But that mindset conflicted with another. That of the grandson who was still clinging to some hope that her mind could just… bounce back. Somehow…

Anissa balanced her basket on her forearm and reached down for Jin's hand, taking it firmly in her own. _The least she could do… was be right here._ "I'm glad… she had a nice birthday today."

Jin's eyes fogged and quickly threatened to spill over. He bit his lip, but he couldn't stop it. Their voices were hushed, and they were a fair enough distance away, but he wouldn't know what to do if his grandmother heard him cry. He caught his involuntary gasp with the back of his wrist, his vision swaying in pools as Irene drifted into blurriness in his sight and the tears were released. He gave in to his momentary lapse of weakness and cried, relinquishing his worries and fears and despair to the fall leaves raining down from Fugue Forest across the valley. Anissa's hand as his only anchor to tether him there and remind him that even though his job was hard, there was no other choice. He had to keep fighting. He'd always be fighting. Even if she forgot it all. The shops and villagers and seasons and time. He knew in his heart that it wasn't all in vain. That these moments they shared really mattered. They meant something, even if they were locked in yesterdays. He'd keep every memory Irene couldn't, and he'd hold them for her until… until… forever.

The clouds were scattering at the end of the long day, the autumn sun sinking low and fast over the horizon. The hint of an orange harvest moon was peeking through the bare branches by the mountain, and the air grew cold and bitter. They waited, watching Irene collect the herbs until she was satisfied, and she rejoined them. Irene greeted Anissa like she hadn't seen her yet that day, asking how she was and what errands she had to do. And Anissa answered like she hadn't seen Irene that day either, repeating every last query with unconditional patience and support as Jin surreptitiously rubbed dry the lenses of his glasses on his sweater.

Though they hadn't been to Marimba Farm for the spring bulbs Irene wanted, she had changed her mind since she was excited to get so many good herbs. She wanted to start drying them right away. Anissa said her goodbyes, but she couldn't help but linger, watching in slight awe as Jin had returned to his usual, calm demeanor. Like nothing was wrong. Like he couldn't break down. She almost thought she dreamed it.

Irene waved to Anissa in farewell and turned to start the trek back home. Jin held his hand out to her. "Take my hand, baasan."

She looked on in an almost déjà vu as she recognized the gesture. Irene slowly, stilted, held out her hand and met his, taking hold.

Jin walked her home, their pace sluggish and weary once again. That was okay. No matter how tedious or frustrating or scary or disjointed the road, Jin would always show her the way back home. Because it was his turn to lead her by the hand.


End file.
